


deaths of another kind

by dreammish



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Despite the name no one actually dies, Gen, Introspection, Stream of Consciousness, Takes place right after Sae’s palace, i needed to get this out of my system, let akira feel things!! and process things!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24013501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreammish/pseuds/dreammish
Summary: In which Akira ruminates about what happened in the interrogation room.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	deaths of another kind

Akira wonders what occurred in the other world, the one in which Akechi murdered him. Did he take the gun and shift into that stance with his left foot slightly ahead of his right, angling his body to point the barrel with careful precision to the spot between his rival’s eyes? Was it a zombie from the arcade game they once played together that he envisioned or perhaps one of his past victims or maybe the villain from the cartoons in his hazy memories from a distant childhood, righteous ray gun in hand? 

Did he smile with delirious, vicious joy at his confirmed dominance over his rival, what he had been desperately wanting since they first struck their deal all those months ago? Did he falter and whisper an apology in the silent moments that followed, the only living witness that he still felt remorse in that caged heart of his? 

No, Akira thinks. That doesn’t seem right. Neither of those seem right. Because Akechi was not one without the other. 

Was it Joker, Akira, or another obstacle in human form that stood between him and his goal, years long in the making, that he envisioned before his eyes? Perhaps an amalgamation of all three, twisting together into something dehumanized. 

Or maybe it was the opposite. Akira was too human, a reminder, a mirror, tethering him with a thin string to the humanity that still dwelled inside, curled deep in the dark. For all the grandiose of demons and spells and stealing hearts, it was still encased in a biological fragility that spilled out wine red with a click. 

Did those muted red eyes squint, clear with derision? Did they peer at him, muddled and distant, envisioning something else?

Akira hopes it’s the former. 

He should feel hatred and indignation puffing up like how Ryuji felt after the initial relief swept through the group at the continued existence of their dear leader when they spotted him returning home to Leblanc. Does he? Should he?

Akechi was only the trigger held by someone else, he knows. He knows this. To measure up their hurts and transgressions and determine who between them is more innocent, more deserving is meaningless in a game whose rules twist around fairness and justice. He knows, he knows this. 

A tremor enters his hands all the same, safely tucked away in the folds of his jeans.

Fate had brought them together, he once heard. 

Makoto had hugged him and in that strained voice of hers when the weight of responsibility settles too heavily, she choked out that he could’ve died. The plan relied heavily on his coherence which the police made sure to incapacitate with the near lethal doses of whatever farce of a truth serum they injected him with. If he hadn’t succeeded...

He could‘ve died.

But he didn’t. 

He could’ve never stopped that man from forcing himself on that woman. He could’ve averted his eyes and kept walking like how his parents would’ve wanted.

But he didn’t. 

What use was it in going through hypotheticals? 

_Isn’t that why you’re becoming a police commissioner? To reform the system?_ And Makoto had smiled a wet smile like he knew she would, and the spotlight passed.

He wonders if being so blithely unconcerned with how close to the throes of death he was is a flashing indicator of something. He had felt Haru’s hand brush feather light against the bruised hues of purple and red that mottled his cheek and had seen her small smile when he stiffened before she turned away. He remembers the memory of her voice about leaning on her with his issues and dismisses it as quickly as it came. 

Elections are imminent and they still have Shido to deal with. 

Replenish medical supplies from Takemi, check in on his confidants, pick up new gear for the Phantom Thieves, study for exams. The work was a never ending list of to dos to be checked off. 

He waves off that morose thought too as quickly as it comes. He has allowed himself to linger on these ruminations for too long already. Best to keep himself grounded in the present like he has been or else he might drift away again.

Deaths weren’t just of the physical kind.

**Author's Note:**

> P5 and P5R have me in an endless shuake hell and I needed to put this out there so maybe my brain will focus on something else (like work??)
> 
> I just want to say that I love Akiren, Goro, and Shuake a lot a lot. But it always bothered me how little consideration everyone (including Akiren himself) gave to the additional trauma of being detained, drugged, and abused (and then almost killed by someone who means a lot) for someone who was already struggling with existing trauma. So this was a cathartic piece! 
> 
> Hope no one takes offense here - not blaming Goro for all of it (he was as much a victim too - not entirely innocent but a victim all the same). Just trying to let Akiren process a little. (Also sorry this has like minimal romantic shuake agh) 
> 
> Maybe I’ll wrap this into the other snippets I have for a proper shuake one shot. But! Until then!
> 
> Also Makoto and Haru are purely platonic wrt Akiren - I would’ve written in all of them but! I didn’t. Idk why


End file.
